Up All Night To Get Lucky
by ArtificialAorta
Summary: Darcy and Clint decide to bar hop and act as each others' wingman. At the end of the night, Darcy goes home with someone she didn't expect. Set before Love Is An Embarrassing Thing.


**Summary**: Darcy and Clint decide to bar hop and act as each others' wingman. At the end of the night, Darcy goes home with someone she didn't expect.  
**Pairings**: Darcy/ Clint  
**Stark Family Series: **This fic is from my Stark Family series where Darcy is Tony Stark's daughter. It can also be read alone though, just be aware that there are some references to other stories/ Tony being Darcy's daughter. This fic takes place after _Stark Family Traditions_ and before _Love Is An Embarrassing Thing_. **  
****Rating**: This chapter is NC-17 due to explicit sexual content. Though it is only in the last section, which begins at the * * * and can be skipped if you so wish. Without that, it is still mature due to sexually suggestive content.  
**Disclaimer**: I don't own Clint Barton or Darcy Lewis or anything related to Marvel.  
**A/N**: Decided to go ahead and post this because if I don't, I'll never stop editing it. This is the night that is referenced to in _Love Is An Embarrassing Thing._ The night that started it all. There may be some discrepancy in details but that's what I get for writing things out of order.

* * *

Two Beers

"You sure you didn't want a whole plate to yourself?" Darcy asked sardonically, crossing her arms and leaning against the comfy booth as she watched Clint shove nachos into his mouth with abandon. She had taken him to her favourite bar in New York- The Goal Post. It was a small sports bar with a back room of booths that always packed after 10 PM, no matter the day of the week. While Darcy did like the fancier places around New York, no other served a huge plate of delicious nachos for ten bucks. Darcy had lived in the lap of luxury her whole life but she could still appreciate a cheap meal at a sports bar. Which was why she and Tony often frequented the bar for nachos. Fridays were always packed with rowdy college students but they hardly ever noticed the billionaire in the corner and served as mildly interesting entertainment.

This Friday night, Darcy decided to take Clint. She wasn't entirely sure why she brought him. The day was winding down, he was turning in paperwork, she'd had a crummy week and a friend had just cancelled a meet up she'd been looking forward to the whole week. Somehow, Clint had sensed her moodiness and asked her what was wrong, only to be met with a rant about SHIELD entry level training and that it should cover the basic alphabet if all the misfiled paperwork was any indication.

Instead of giving an excuse to leave, he actually listened. She thought that maybe if she bought him some nachos, it would serve as an adequate thank you and sorry. At the speed that he was wolfing them down, she seemed to be right. As long as he didn't start choking- not that she would entirely mind the CPR if it came down to that.

"I don't know why you waited this long to tell me about this place. Cheap beer and nachos. I might vote this as the new Avengers go to after missions."

"I think the shawarma place would be sad to lose your business," Darcy pointed out, taking a sip of her Corona and nibbling on a soggy chip.

"I guess that's true," frowned Clint. They sat without saying anything for a while, letting the noise of the rowdy crowd take their attention. She took time to think back on the few instances she and Clint hung out. They interacted mostly because of her position as Coulson's assistant in training. Once on a mission out of town, Clint joined her at the nearby bar but they only covered polite small talk. Mostly, hey'd only hung out with each other if the the rest of the Avengers were involved. When Darcy thought about it, the two of them never went out of their way to make plans outside any of that. The notion struck her as odd when she realized she spent leisure time with every other member of The Avengers. It was a real shame because they got along well and had fun snarking back and forth, often to the entertainment of Coulson who claimed he was trying to get work done but really needed a break.

"What do you normally do to decompress?" Clint asked suddenly, catching Darcy off guard.

"Oh, um, I guess eat ice cream, watch movies at home and Skype with my best friend? I'm kind of boring. My days of club hopping are over," lamented Darcy, looking over to the shouting 21-year-olds at the bar. She knew she wasn't much older than them but she felt it. Though that could just be sore muscles from training. She'd gone somewhat wild her early years of college and got bored of it. Also, she didn't know that many people around New York she liked to get drunk with at clubs. Darcy realized that if you needed to get drunk to be able to stand someone, they probably weren't a good friend to begin with.

"Really? I thought you were a party animal. Remember when we first met?"

"At that party Tony threw so I could make a fool of myself in front of Steve?" Darcy asked, still cringing at the way she had acted like a drooling fangirl. Coulson and her still lamented over their epic fails at impressing Captain America.

"No, before that. That morning in the elevator."

"Oh god," Darcy's eye grew to saucer-like proportions and she covered her burning face. "I thought you forgot about that."

"You were wearing a tiny purple dress, a push up bra and yesterday's make up. 'Course I'd remember that. Was a little disappointed actually, when you drooled over the Cap all night and didn't even spare a second glance at me," smirked Clint.

"You were sad that the hot mess in the elevator wasn't sparing you a glance? I thought the ladies were throwing themselves at Hawkeye," asked Darcy skeptically, raising an eyebrow. Clint gave her a small, genuine smile and cradled his beer.

"What can I say, I have a bit of a soft spot for hot messes every so often. Blame it on my white knight tendencies. And the ladies _are_ throwing themselves at me but it's nice to know they're after me 'cause of my wit and not 'cause I can shoot arrows at bad guys."

"Well, at least you're having regular sex," admitted Darcy somewhat bitterly.

"Even though my charm is a curse a times, it does come in handy," Clint shrugged, making Darcy roll her eyes.

"With how tired I am some days, I'd rather just eat ice cream and watch movies. Who wants to put in the effort to try and pick someone up?" moaned Darcy melodramatically. SHIELD training to become Coulson's official PA was taking its toll on her social life. Sexual life unfortunately included. She knew it was all necessary, particularly now they were starting her send her out with Coulson on field assignments. Being able to protect herself and those around her when shit went down was a good priority but sometimes she just wanted to be able to go home after a normal 9-5 job with the energy to go out and be a normal woman in her early twenties.

"You have boobs, I can't imagine it's that hard for you."

"I blame you SHIELD men. I'm hanging around buff guys and geniuses all day and then I'm stuck in bars with these idiots," Darcy took another look around the bar and sighed at the obnoxious boys trying to use volume as a means of compensating for something.

"Then ask one of the agents out."

"I'd rather not start sleeping with someone at work. Nasty work rumours and stuff. Things would get messy," winced Darcy, trying to bury the one conversation she had overheard in a bathroom stall. Snide comments about her getting a job due to nepotism and a sex act she was pretty sure was physically impossible. Best not to let it weigh her down. She'd dealt with enough bitchy girls and boys in the past.

"Go to a different bar? You know, beggars can't be choosers," Clint pointed out. The insinuation that she was a sexual beggar (even though she technically was at this point), hurt a bit.

"Ugh, I don't know," Darcy buried her face in her arms. "It's different for girls. Or maybe it's just me? I need the complete package with a guy. Otherwise I can't get turned on any more. It's hard to find a spark. I need a spark. Is it a crime to want more?"

"You women and your fairytale romances. Now come on, you can't tell me you don't see at least one guy here you wouldn't mind fucking based purely on looks. Yours truly not included though," Clint smiled smugly and Darcy threw a balled up napkin at him. He dodged it easily.

"Don't flatter yourself. And…yeah I guess but the moment he starts talking about how smashed he got the night before, I just lose interest."

"Then we'll find someone with a few more interesting stories."

"We?"

"Darcy, tonight I'm gonna be your wingman," Clint announced grandly, only to have her stare at him blankly.

"What, like on_ How I Met Your Mother_?"

"On...what?"

"You can't tell me you've never seen _How I Met Your Mother_?" Darcy asked in disbelief.

"Hey, I'm the one having sex on my time off. You're watching TV."

"You don't have to be an asswad about it."

"I'm just offering to help you out. So what do you say? Do some bar hopping and we'll try to get each other laid," Clint said seriously. "Two-way street here."

"Okay," Darcy said carefully. "But I don't see why you need a wingman. If you're getting so much ass to begin with."

"I trust your judgement to find me someone who'll like me for Clint, not Hawkeye."

"Aww, that's kind of sweet," Darcy smiled, feeling her chest cinch a bit.

"And someone who's also a slut in bed," added Clint with a wink.

"Moment over," snorted Darcy, rolling her eyes and finishing off her beer.

* * *

One Wine

"Honestly, I've given up hope. You'd think with all the guys in New York, odds were in my favour that I'd find someone," Darcy whined, looking around at the suited corporate assholes surrounding them. They'd picked a pricier bar called Hillstone. It was darker, decorated with blue light and glass and had overpriced drinks. Darcy nursed her glass of white zinfandel and considered getting a glass of water. She felt a little out of place, even if her red blouse, pencil skirt and matching red pumps fit in with the office workers that frequented the bar. On the other hand, Clint was completely relaxed in a pair of purple converses, black jeans and a white t-shirt. It irked her that he could look so at place while she was hyperaware of how awkward she felt.

"You haven't even talked to any of these guys," Clint shrugged, swinging his bottle of Heineken around the inhabitants of the bar.

"Look me in the eye and tell me they don't all look like a bunch of ex-frat, corporate assholes who just want to talk about their new BMWs. I went to school with guys like this and I wasn't impressed then."

"This is why you can't get a man," Clint accused, sipping his beer and pointing at her.

"What?"

"You're so crotchety and judgey. Guys aren't gonna try their luck with a girl who looks like a challenge. That's not what one night stands are about. They're about screwing someone easy that you don't ever want to see again and having a story to tell after. No matter how terrible it was."

"Did you just call me crotchety, old man?" Darcy tried not to look offended but her attempt at a joke fell flat.

"Yeah I did. You can't assume all these guys are jerks. Well, that one you can," Clint pointed to a tall, almost too-handsome man in a well tailored suit. Darcy was only minutely ashamed that she had been checking out his chiseled cheekbones earlier. "He's definitely a jerk. But these other guys? Yeah, they may be jerks in their normal lives but the important thing is that they want to have sex with _you_. Tonight."

Clint spun a finger around and poked at Darcy's arm lightly to highlight his point. Darcy huffed and tried to count all the reasons why he was wrong when deep down she knew he was sort of right. A few years ago, Darcy let the booze do most of the talking for her. As a result, she had more sex and turned the walk of shame into a stride. If she let her judgement slide for one night, it didn't matter if the guy was completely horrible in the long run because she had a story and would be sexually sated. Right?

"Okay, okay, I guess you have a point. So how do I cure my chronic bitch-face?"

"Glad to hear you're finally seeing sense," Clint took Darcy's wine glass and put it down on the bar along with his bottle. She protested when he undid the top button on her blouse so her her cleavage was showing. He then grabbed Darcy's shoulders lightly. She could feel his body heat seeping through her thin blouse and as he leaned in towards her, his musky deodorant filled her nostrils. It was kind of nice.

"What are you doing?" Darcy asked when Clint started to shake her lightly, to and fro.

"C'mon, I want you loose."

"Loose?"

"Yeah, gotta get rid of that posture. Screams frigid bitch. You need to be loose. Open and playful."

"Like my vagina?" joked Darcy. Clint stopped shaking her and this eyes widened at her come back. Her stomach clenched when he removed his hands.

"What?" He started to laugh and the clench disappeared.

"It's a joke," Darcy said defensively, crossing her legs and turning her barstool so she faced the bar. Clint continued to laugh, giving Darcy time to pick up her wine and take a large gulp.

"Yeah, I like it. Keep makin' 'em. There, hold on," Clint reached out to Darcy's waist and she froze. She felt him turn her around so her back was to the bar. He reached behind her head and took the butterfly clip out of her hair, letting her curls fall down past her shoulders. "Now you just need to keep your body language open to the room and flip your hair. Show off your neck, guys like that."

"Okay, I feel kind of stupid but whatever," admitted Darcy. In reality, she had done this loads of times but she felt silly doing this coy act in front of Clint. He was a down-to-earth, straight forward, sometimes bro-ish kind of guy and Darcy always felt like he treated her as an equal. All this pretense felt wrong around him. Though, she reminded herself he was a spy and actually knew a lot about psychology and body language. So he probably was right about this and she was a little proud that she had picked up on it over the years.

"Don't be. Now I gotta pee. If you don't get at least one number while I'm gone, then these guys really are jerks."

Darcy watched Clint walk away. Deciding that she should at least try his advice, she found herself flipping her hair off of her shoulders and leaning her head to show off her neck. Looking around at the men in the bar, a feeling of dejection crept into her shoulders as she saw they were all preoccupied with prettier, more coquettish looking women or other larger groups of men. Darcy turned back towards the bar and slumped her shoulders. Screw Clint's advice. She didn't need to change.

A sudden presence loomed over her when she tried to wave the bartender down for a glass of water. It made the hairs on the back of her neck prickle uncomfortably. That's all it took for her to know Clint wasn't back from the bathroom and trying to tease. She turned around to see a man in his late forties. His hair was mostly grey and he had a gut underneath his expensive suit. Once he had Darcy's attention, he smiled and switched his glass from his left hand to his right and for a second, Darcy thought she saw the glint of a wedding ring.

"Hey, me and my colleagues are celebrating a successful merger and wanted to know if you'd like to join us for a couple drinks?" He asked, stepping back to point at a group of men with varying ages. There was one of them that may have been attractive to Darcy's standards but there was something off about this whole situation. She just wanted him to leave.

"No, I'm fine on my own," Darcy clipped out.

"C'mon, we'd love to have a beautiful girl to talk to," the man tried to tempt her and Darcy felt a slither of anxiety pool in her stomach as he leaned in close.

"Really, I just want to sit at the bar alone. Find someone else."

"Now, don't be like that. What do you like to do for fun?" the man insisted and Darcy's patience gave way. She turned her head and gave the man her best death glare.

"I like to punch jerkoffs in the face."

"Really?" The man smirked and leaned even closer. Darcy couldn't believe that he simply was not getting it. "So, what are you gonna be like tonight when you strip away the aggression?"

"She'll be going home with me. You got a problem with that?" Clint bit out, suddenly appearing at Darcy's side. He stepped behind Darcy and wrapped an arm around her waist. It made her feel safe. She leaned into it and watched the man falter under Clint's glare.

"Hey. No problem, man. Have a good night," the man offered, backing up to show he didn't want a fight. Darcy watched him slink back to his group of coworkers before she turned back to Clint.

"Thanks."

"No big deal," Clint pulled away from her and the bar suddenly felt cold. He picked up his beer and tossed a crumpled card on the table.

"What's that?"

"Huh? Oh, a number," shrugged Clint. "A girl gave it to me when I came back from the bathroom."

"Who?" Darcy turned her head in the least subtle way possible and peered at the women around them.

"Uh, brunette in the green dress."

After another sweep, Darcy spotted her. Tall, tan and gorgeous. She probably should have been gracing the pages of fashion magazines if she wasn't already. As she lifted her head back and laughed at something her friend said, Darcy could just barely make out her melodic laughter over the crowd. Darcy knew Clint hit the jackpot.

"Well, why don't you go talk to her, she's hot. All because one of us doesn't score doesn't mean the other can't. That's what this is about, right? Maybe I should find that guy again. One of his buddies might be cute. Beggars can't be choosers."

"No man left behind Lewis. Besides, she was trying too hard," Clint said, sharp tone suggesting that the conversation was over. He asked the bartender for the check. Darcy looked back at the goddess in the green dress and saw she was trying to send Clint a smoldering look.

"If you say so."

A part of Darcy was a little excited that Clint had choosen her over the goddess. Darcy wasn't entirely sure she would have done the same if their roles were reversed but then again, tonight was supposed to be about helping _her_ get some. Right? If Clint could score women like that without even trying, he definitely didn't need Darcy's help as a wingman.

"Let's go. You're right. This place is full of assholes," Clint tugged at Darcy's arm. She didn't question it when Clint put some money down on the bar and led them out to the next adventure.

* * *

One Malibu & Sprite and One Shot

Something made Clint's mood sour like expired milk on a hot summer day. They walked in silence as they searched for a different bar. Darcy wasn't sure if his broodiness was tied to the unwanted man hitting on her or him not going home with Alana (Darcy had totally stolen the card and taken a look. The woman was a model. She was keeping the card and slipping it into Clint's pocket later if he didn't have anymore luck). Not sure how to handle an angry Clint, Darcy decided to just let him have his moment. She wasn't in too much of a hurry to talk either. Her gut was still churning from her last encounter. Or maybe it was the wine mixing with her beers. As they trotted down the street, Darcy fought the urge to tuck her hand in Clint's arm. Instead, she wrapped her coat tighter around her body.

They walked for about fifteen minutes and stopped in front of a small pub called Maleys. It was much quieter than the bar before. Warmth and coziness radiated from the decor of stained wood, exposed brick and antique bric-a-brac.

The bar was full but a small corner booth just opened up as they entered. They decided to order a couple of drinks and some snacks. Neither complained about the antisocial turn of the new location. Their waitress was a cute blonde, whose gaze lingered on Clint. He returned her affection with a small smile but didn't lead her on any further.

"Malibu and Sprites make me slutty," Darcy announced, eating her cherry garnish when their drinks were served. She hoped the comment would break their silence. "Here's a secret: rum is a total panty dropper for me."

"You should have told me that earlier," Clint said, breaking out into a weary smile. His shoulders relaxed and he sat back in the booth. "Can't hold out on information. I'm your wingman. I need to really know you so I can pick the right guy," Clint said with a genuine smile. He was back to business and out of his funk.

"Okay, pick my brain. What do you want to know about me and Lady Satine," Darcy pointed down to her crotch. Clint raised his brow, clearly not impressed.

"We're going back to that terrible name later."

"It's an awesome name."

"It's really not," chuckled Clint, taking a swig of his whiskey on the rocks. A welcome change from his Heinekens, in Darcy's opinion. She wondered if his beers were starting to affect him or not. He was a pretty big guy and she never recalled him actually stumbling drunk before. Though, he had been chattier throughout the night. That was a promising sign, she supposed. "Anyway, what do you want tonight?"

"I want a man to sex me up."

"I know that. What about specifics. Hair color, body, age. Narrow this down."

"_Well_...I don't want really old guys who don't take no for an answer."

"I got that. No older men."

"Well, I wouldn't mind a silver fox, I guess. But…I mean. I want him to be handsome. I need something pretty to look at. And charisma. I want him to make me laugh and be kind of witty. Someone to sweep me off my feet."

"Let me rephrase: do you want a real man or do you want to keep getting disappointed that you can't find a fantasy guy."

"Oh, you know what I mean," Darcy insisted. The conversation wasn't as fun anymore. She was relieved to see the waitress coming out with their snack platter so she could have something else to focus on. Darcy bit into a hot wing and waited for Clint to stop observing her with a suspicious squint to his eyes.

"Yeah I do, but what your asking for doesn't exist. Not in the world of one nighters. Lower your expectations and you'll find loads of guys."

"I don't want to lower my expectations. Why should I lower my expectations when I just raised them? My expectations were lowered for years and I slept with guys who were not worth repeating."

"But you got laid," Clint grabbed a hot wing and waited for her to concede to what he thought was a great point.

"But I want to sleep with better guys now. Someone who I have a little bit of chemistry with."

"Fine, then don't be disappointed when you're not in someone else's bed tonight."

"You're being an asswad again," Darcy sighed, wiping her fingers clean and leaning back into the booth. She took a long sip of her drink and avoided his gaze. She could feel him staring at her. They sat like that for half a minute before Clint sighed and continued with a softer voice.

"C'mon, what are the bare minimums?"

"Uh, handsome?" shrugged Darcy. "And makes me laugh? Not over 35. I like longer hair. Something I can weave my fingers through."

"See, that I can work with. Now I can get you pretty or I can get you funny. But not both."

"Are you serious?" Darcy laughed and bit her bottom lip. That's what she got for her confession?

"If you drink more, I can get you both. You're not that drunk. We're missing a crucial factor," Clint turned to wave at the waitress. "Hey, can we get two shots of tequila? Thanks."

"You do know nothing good comes out of drinking tequila."

"Nothing boring comes out of tequila. Choose your words wisely."

"Okay then, if we're looking at specifics, what do _you_ want in a woman?"

"Blonde, bendy, long legs and/ or big tits. In that order. I can accept smaller breasts but she's gotta have legs. And eagerness makes up for bendiness. Blonde is nonnegotiable," Clint listed out without skipping a beat.

"Blondes? That's your thing?" Darcy was actually taken back by that. She leaned in and whispered her next sentence. "I would have thought you were into redheads."

"No, not anymore. Had too many redheads get me shot at when I'm naked. Takes the fun out of sex."

"Not sure I really want the stories behind that."

"A couple are classified."

"Of course they are."

The waitress came back with their shots and they wordlessly tipped them back, wincing at the burn. They continued to eat their food, waiting for the tequila buzz to begin.

"You know, I'd go lesbian for Natasha," confessed Darcy, biting her bottom lip coyly.

"_What_?" Clint choked on his whiskey and Darcy smirked, satisfied that she was able to get him off kilter, even just a little.

"I'd go lesbian for Nat. She's hot. Still don't know how a goofball like you got lucky."

"Hey, I'm a lovable goofball who knows what ladies want. They also like my abs," leered Clint. "Very lickable."

"You're also _so_ humble. Don't forget that one."

"Say what you want, _I_ had sex multiple times with Natasha. And we both enjoyed it."

"Okay, you have me there. So," Darcy waggled her eyebrows, finishing off the rest of her Malibu and Sprite. "What was it like?"

Clint stared at Darcy seriously, letting out a long breath of air through his mouth. He focused on his glass, shifting it slowly and watching the ice move.

"Amazing," he admitted heavily. "And as you may have guessed earlier, often life threatening. Though to be fair, it was more other people shooting at us that was the deadly part," Clint chuckled to himself, eyes starting to glaze over. "But really, Nat knows me inside and out. She knows…she knows how to get me off."

"Was she really into bondage? I had sex with a Russian exchange student in college. He was really into it," Darcy asked, trying to lighten the mood. It made her a little uncomfortable to be hearing this. Something about the confession felt more raw than she had anticipated. She'd hope for another joke and innuendo from him. Not a glimpse into his soul.

"Well, I'm not a big fan," Clint shifted uncomfortably in the booth. "I mean, we tried it and I…it just wasn't a good idea."

"You don't have to tell me," Darcy leaned out and touched Clint's arm, regretting she even mentioned it. She probably should have warned Clint that tequila kind of made her an insensitive bitch. Then again, her brain to mouth filter was faulty to begin with. It was sort of the Stark Family way.

"Sorry. Uh, it wasn't all that amazing to be honest. Yeah, it was great but I don't want to go back there. Mentally, I mean. We were both in similar places and we needed it. But we're past that now. If we had sex today it would still be good but we wouldn't be as…desperate as we used to be. That's what really fueled it."

"I guess I can understand that. Sort of. In a conceptual way. Maybe."

"Yeah. And…" Clint let the sentence hang, mischievous glint returning to his eyes.

"And?"

"Well, she did this one annoying thing. After a while. I didn't think much of it at the time but now..."

"What did she do?" Darcy asked, leaning in and feeling like she was apart of a huge, level 6 SHIELD secret. Though it was probably on par.

"She just had a running commentary. I told her about it, not that it bothers her."

"Running commentary? What do you mean?"

"I mean, like, she just told me what to do. All the time. Told me when I was doing something wrong and even when I was doing something right. The whole time, she just talked. It didn't happen at first but once it started, it didn't stop."

"Maybe she was just working with what she had."

"Nat's kind of bossy. Let's be honest. It's how she is. She knows what she wants sexually and she's not afraid to tell you. Which is hot but not to the last detail. I like to find out new things on my own sometimes. New ways to make a woman moan. Branch out a bit. I mean, she let me do that at first but things changed between us after a while. Our lives got better and we needed different things. I think she kind of wanted to pretend I was someone else in the end. But maybe that's just how she is with me," Clint gave Darcy a dirty little smirk and it made her squirm.

"Yeah. Maybe you're just not as slick as you think."

"Oh, believe me, I am."

"Please, I bet you couldn't make me come once with out my help. I mean, yeah you can work a bow and arrow but I've seen you play Quarters. It's sad," Darcy teased.

"What does bouncing quarters into a bowl have to do with my penis?" Clint asked, baffled and a little offended she brought up the first time she saw him play Quarters. It had been at Tony's infamous party where Darcy met Steve. Clint was past tipsy by the time that game had started so it wasn't a sound representation. Normally, Clint kicked ass at Quarters. Tony just added stupid rules so everyone else got drunk and played as badly as he did. In the end, it meant that Bruce always won the game.

"Anybody can aim at something, it takes finesse and some strategy to really impress a lady," Darcy challenged.

"I could make you cum three times tonight," Clint said, pounding his hand on the table. "With three different moves. How's that for finesse?"

"Words Barton. All I hear are words," Darcy could officially feel the rum and tequila hitting her senses. She was a little dizzy all of a sudden. Clint's suggestion made her flustered and she could feel it from her cheeks to her chest. Darcy squeezed her legs together, hoping he wouldn't realize her cheeks were red from the thought and not just her drinks.

"All right then," Clint leaned into Darcy's personal space with a filthy leer. "My place or yours?" He enjoyed the way her eyes grew huge in shock.

"Excuse me?" Darcy swallowed nervously.

"You heard me."

"But, I'm, I'm me and you...you- we were gonna be each others wingman?" Clint reached out and took Darcy's hand, stroking it with his thumb. The light touch sent shocks of heat up her arm and pooled between her legs. She suddenly caught the wicked glint in his eye and it gave her strength to call his bluff. "The waitress is a blonde and she's been eyeing you. I thought your rule was blondes above all."

"I don't have to go home with the first blonde chick I see," Clint said. Darcy's eyebrows hit her hairline. "What? I mean, we said tonight no one was going home alone. So why not go home together? Besides, you upset Clint Junior. We need to get our pride back."

"Clint Junior? No archery references? Not even a Robin Hood reference. I'd expect _Men In Tights_ at the least. Little John? Legolas?" Darcy listed, wanting to shift Clint's attention so her panties didn't get too damp.

"Are you asking if you can name my penis? 'Cause that's what I'm hearing."

"Let me name your penis, Clint," Darcy laughed, leaning in close to him.

"Only ladies who've got up close and personal to my penis can name it. And even then, it's a suggestion that I will consider and ignore. Sorry."

* * *

One Sex On The Beach, Another Shot

"I'm _so_ ready. Find me a man with a penis," Darcy spun around on her barstool and lifted her half finished drink to the ceiling. They were at a more populated bar now. The Salty Dog. The nautical theme was charming but not overdone. There was a consistent sound of chatter and a majority of groups were standing, though some were dancing around the dance floor to song selections that were more rock than danceable pop tunes. Darcy started to sing along to the song playing, even though she had never heard it before.

"Haha, okay, hold on you're gonna make me dizzy," chuckled Clint, taking a hold of Darcy's waist to stop her so she was facing him. The touch was firm but gentle. Suddenly, she felt off center and it wasn't her previous spinning was the cause. She took another long sip of her drink, thinking back to his offer. He had only been joking. Right? Not that she would ever open that can of radioactive worms. Sex and work was just asking for trouble. It was a terrible suggestion. Even if his arms were looking particularly nice right now.

"I've never had a Sex On The Beach. Or actually _had_ sex on a beach. Which is a shame. This drink is good. And warm sand feels good between your toes."

"Only between your toes. Take my word for it. You don't want it crammed anywhere else."

"You had sex on a beach? With one of your harlot redheads?" Darcy leaned forward to glare at Clint. She stuck out her elbow to balance on the bar but missed. Squeaking in horror, Darcy's loose limps made their way towards the ground. Before she fell, Clint caught her, one hand under her arm and the other gripping her wrist of the hand that held her drink. As a result, Darcy was almost hanging in the air. He let her down slowly, making sure she was balanced before letting go.

"Nah, she was a brunette."

"Blah, blah," Darcy hopped back on her stool and frowned. "Clint gets all the sex. We get it."

The eye roll that accompanied Darcy's complaint earned chuckles. Clint smiled affectionately at her, like she was a charming, beloved pet. Darcy plopped her arms on the bar and buried her head.

"Where's _my_ penis man?" Darcy asked, voice muffled by her arms.

"I promise I'll get you a penis man," assured Clint, patting Darcy on the back. She lifted her head and caught his gaze.

"Does this make us bros? Us being wingmen?"

"Yeah, I guess so," Clint offered her a fist bump and Darcy exploded hers with flair, laughing into her drink. Her glee as the new title turned to shock when Clint reached out and pushed a loose curl behind her ear. Her laughter halted. She waited as Clint studied her. It was hard not to squirm under his searching gaze. Instead, Darcy matched it comically with a pout. He grinned and it made Darcy warm, right down to her toes.

"Let's have sex," Clint said with an air of affection.

"I thought that's what we were trying to do."

"No, I mean you and me. Together," Clint reached out and took Darcy's hand in his, sending unwarranted shivers down her spine. Suddenly, she remembered that this was wrong but couldn't figure out the exact reasons why. Darcy pulled away, frustrated.

"What? No way-"

"C'mon Darcy. You wanted chemistry. Well, we have it. Right? I mean, one bro to another. Just helpin' each other out."

"I don't think bros do _that_," Darcy waved a hand around, trying to emphasize her point but only succeeding in tipping over her glass. "_Shit_."

She tried to soak up the drink with her coaster but the bartender was quickly at her aid, wiping down the mess.

"I just thought…you want someone who makes you laugh. That you like being with. You _do_ like being with me?"

"Yeah but- are you drunk? 'Cause I sorta am. So I can't remember all the reasons why this is a terrible idea."

"I'm drunk enough to know it's not a terrible idea."

Darcy paused, taking a moment to try and think. Her body was telling her it was an awesome idea. For some reason, her brain was trying to say it wasn't. The haze that was covering her brain and slowing her reactions made it difficult to sort out logic and gut. She wanted it. She never thought she did but now that it was offered, she couldn't imagine saying no and not regretting it. Clint was ruggedly handsome and he made her laugh. Late night middle school slumber parties and drinking with her best friend Tammie always had conversations about what made her dream man. Those were her top two.

Not that it made Clint her dream man. He was far from that. Especially when she took into account his inability to commit to any woman that didn't almost cause his death. The fact that he was more bro than suave was a good reminder of that. And she kind of wanted to smack him more often than not at work because he was so cocky and hardly turned in paperwork and was probably one of the reasons why her blood pressure was a little higher than normal.

Sensing her doubt, Clint leaned in and took her lips in a kiss. Darcy's froze, unsure of what to do but she didn't push him away. He sucked at her lips lightly before opening her mouth to dart at her tongue. The tease made Darcy follow back and soon she was licking and sucking back with vigor. She let her body relax, leaning in when he cradled the back of her head and grabbed his shirt to pull him in closer. Even though she was teetering dangerously on the edge of her stool, she didn't care if she fell as long as his lips were still tugging at hers on the way down.

When they broke apart, Darcy knew she was standing dangerously along the edge of something other than her stool. What? She wasn't entirely sure but Clint's earnest face staring at her didn't help matters. She looked away, trying to steady her whirling mind. Everyone in the bar was too occupied with their own objectives to notice her trying to work out a dilemma. She started to listen to the music playing, hoping it would act as some kind of anchor or some divine answer.

"_So let's go to bed, before you say something real. Let's go to bed, before you say how you feel_."

It made her laugh. If Clint hadn't been sitting next to her this whole time, she would have thought he had planed all of this. The bar hopping, the creepy old guy, the blonde waitress and the song selection. There was no doubt in her mind that Clint _could_ orchestrate something so complicated. She did wonder when he decided he wanted to sleep with her. Was it just this past moment or had this been something he was after for longer than he wanted to say? It was probably better not to think right now.

"Okay…but we never speak of this. _Ever_. To anyone. None of the Avengers. No one at work. Not Coulson. Not even Nat. Promise?" Darcy said, turning back to him.

"Are you that ashamed of me?" Clint pouted.

"_Promise_?"

"All right, promise. Not even Nat," swore Clint, twirling a strand of her hair around his finger.

"And it will only happen once."

"Aw Darce. Let me have a couple rounds tonight- I'm kiddin'," Clint raised his hands up when Darcy glared at him. "One night performance only. A dirty little secret. Just between the two of us."

This time, Darcy initiated the kiss, pulling Clint towards her roughly. She had plans to nibble at his bottom lip when someone coughed.

"Excuse me, do you mind not sucking face at the bar? The noise is making me sick," the woman next to Darcy said. She and Clint parted with a rather loud squelch noise. Heat was rising to Dacy's chest and cheeks and it wasn't entirely out of embarrassment. She found herself out of breath and unable to face the woman behind her. The fact that Clint successfully pleasured the Black Widow was finally hitting her. Darcy turned towards the bar, trying to get a grip on what was about to happen. It didn't seem real. Everything was jumbling in her head and none of it made any sense. The only clear thing was that she needed to get Clint's lips back on hers.

"Sorry," Clint offered with a smug smile before waving the bartender down for the bill. He waited a moment, until Darcy looked at him when the silence started to feel awkward. He waggled his eyebrows with a shit eating grin. "So fairest maid Marion? Will thou leadest me into thine Sherwood forest?"

"Bartender, add two shots of tequila to that bill," Darcy called out, pulling out her wallet and handing her credit card to the bartender. She waited until they had the two shots in front of them. "Nothing boring comes out of tequila?"

"Nothing boring," agreed Clint.

"All right Robin Hood, show me what you're made of," Darcy smirked, taking her shot and wincing as the liquid burned down her throat and into her gut.

"My place or yours?"

"Mine. Definitely mine," coughed Darcy, signing the check and sticking her card somewhere in her purse. Clint was currently residing at Stark Tower with the other Avengers and no way was she going towards a possible witnesses. In her booze addled mind, Darcy was still adamant about that. "But you're paying for a cab."

"Whatever m'lady desires," Clint took her hand and bowed deeply, loosing his balance in the crowd for a moment before finding it and leading her out the bar.

"Three different ways, huh?" Darcy asked when the cool air hit them, it was almost a sobering effect. Almost. Until Clint wrapped an arm around her shoulder. She leaned in, enjoying the heat that seemed to always radiate from his body. As he waved down a taxi, he looked down and winked.

"Guaranteed or your money back, sweetheart."

"Am I gonna regret this?" Darcy could hear her words start to slur.

"Isn't that some of the fun of one-nighters?" Clint shrugged. Darcy didn't know how to answer but soon a cab stopped so she didn't have to worry about it.

* * *

* * * The only reason Darcy and Clint hadn't been making out the whole cab ride to her apartment was because she had to give the driver a couple of directions. Also, the cabbie shouted at them to keep their clothes on or walk the rest of the way. When he finally pulled up in front of her apartment, Clint threw a wad of bills at the driver and told him to keep the change. Even through the tequila, she was marginally mortified at practically rutting against Clint's leg in the cab.

They stumbled out of the taxi and up towards the front door. As Darcy fished for her keys, Clint spooned her and sucked her neck while gently squeezing her breasts. It was driving her mad and made opening the door almost impossible. To the surprise of both of them, it finally swung open violently. They would have fallen over if it weren't for Clint's quick reflexes.

"The elevator's broken. Stairs," Darcy ordered, leading them towards the four flights of stairs they'd have to climb.

They held hands. Darcy went up first and tried to sprint up the stairs in heels. She ended up stumbling on the second floor for her troubles. Again, Clint's quick reflexes went to work despite the booze and he caught her, pulling her up to slide her up against the wall before any lasting damage could occur. Darcy lay her head on Clint's shoulder, enjoying the way his fingers skimmed her sides. His body was warm and heat soaked into her skin. When she looked up, he stared down at her with dilated, wanting eyes. Darcy laughed, unable to contain the flutters in her stomach. It didn't deter him from leaning in to continue a welcome kiss, taking special care nibble her lips lightly in the way she was starting to realize that she loved. When all she could hear was heavy breathing and slurping, Darcy felt him trail a hand up her thigh and under her skirt. Out of decorum, she made a half assed attempt to struggle when his fingers pulled at her underwear but melted when he nipped her earlobe and nuzzled his nose behind her ear.

Clint lifted Darcy up sharply. She squeaked in surprise and wrapped her arms around his neck. One of her heels fell off. Before Darcy could really notice it, he was sliding a slow finger into her wet folds. She clenched against the feeling. When there was no objection, he added a second finger and used his thumb to rub at her clit. His rough fingers slid in and out of her, occasionally curling ever so slightly. It made her toes curl and she tightened her arms around his neck, pleasure pumping through her veins. Her muscles tightened. Breathy moans spilled out of her mouth and next to his ear as Darcy ran her own fingers through his hair. She wasn't sure if it was the booze, her sexual drought or just his expertise but Darcy came apart with a high pitched moan within a minute. The tension of her orgasm ebbed and a sense of relief washed over her, causing her to relax in his arms.

"That was one," Clint breathed into her neck.

"Hey! Get the fuck out or I'm calling the police!" Someone shouted through the door they were standing next to.

"Sorry," Darcy called back, too sated to be truly embarrassed. She felt Clint's silent laughs shake her body.

"What floor?" Clint asked smugly, setting Darcy back down and helping her pull her skirt down, using it as a flimsy excuse to run his hands slowly down her hips and squeeze her ass.

"Fourth." She took off her other heel and took the shoes into her hands as she led Clint up the stairs onto her floor.

They travelled up to the fourth floor, Clint refrained from touching her until she unlocked her door. It was either patience or him silently planning his next move. She was a little relieved at the short reprieve, hoping it would let her regain some of her senses. As soon as they were in her apartment and the door was shut behind them, Clint went back to kissing her. Darcy threw her shoes and purse onto the floor and Clint's shirt quickly followed it. Darcy found herself running her hands up and down Clint's abs and silently deciding that they really were worth drooling over. She was so busy admiring the view that she didn't realize that he had unzipped her skirt and was pushing it down, along with her underwear. Darcy undid enough buttons on her blouse that she could just pull it over her head as Clint went down on his knees and ran warm hands up and down her thighs. Before Darcy could suggest moving things towards her bedroom, he lifted her up and carried her to sit on the arm of her couch.

She tried to undo his belt buckle but Clint obviously had other ideas. He leaned her back gently, setting her legs on his shoulders and licking up her opening without much warning. He rolled his tongue around her clit, breaths short and hot. His tongue dipped in deeper and Darcy arched towards him, moaning loudly. Her volume was partly due to surprise and partly due to her already sensitive muscles pulsing with little shocks of pleasure at the contact. Her fingers roughly gripped his hair, nails scratching his scalp and pushing him in deeper. He went back to focus on her clit and licked slow swirls around it, occasionally dipping in further. Her orgasm built up steadily, curling within her gut and Darcy came with a whimper. It wasn't as powerful as the first time but it still left her breathless and slack on her couch, heartbeat rushing in her ears.

She watched Clint stand up and wipe his smirking mouth, looking down on her like the cat that caught the canary.

"That's two."

Clint reached out for Darcy's hand and she let him pull her up so she was sitting on the arm of the couch. He ran his hands up and down her back, fitting himself between her legs. The sensation was comforting and Darcy lay her head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat. It was quick but it wasn't fluttering as fast as hers. She could also feel his erection in his jeans but didn't make a move to do something about it. Clint seemed content taking his time and she wasn't going to argue against his plan. She pulled away when she felt him undo the clasp of her bra and let it fall down her arms before tossing it behind her.

"Where's the bed?" Clint asked, and Darcy mumbled what she thought might have been the right answer. Lifting her up so that her legs were tightly clamped around his waist, Clint carried Darcy to the bedroom while sucking on her breasts. Taking a nipple into his warm mouth, Clint lapped at it gently. Darcy curled around him. She protested when he set her down on the bed and moved away. The lack of heat made the air around her frigid. When she was just about to get more vocal, she noticed he was pulling out his wallet and tossed a condom onto the bed.

Deciding to be a bit more proactive, Darcy licked Clint's abs and ghosted a hand along his dick. She smiled when Clint's breath stuttered at the touch.

"Told you they were lickable," Clint smirked when he caught his breath.

"Shut up and take off your pants," Darcy commanded, shoving him lightly in the chest before moving back up the bed and turning on a lamp. Laying out in what she hoped was a seductive pose with her arms holding her up, Darcy waited for Clint to join.

"Oh Darcy," joked Clint in a falsetto. "You play so rough."

She watched him kick off his shoes and socks before unbuttoning his jeans. He slipped out of them so he was standing just in a pair of Jockeys. Darcy never thought of him as a tighty-whities man

"Sometimes I need the extra support," explained Clint, seeing Darcy's raised eyebrow. Without any further thought spared on the matter, Clint climbed onto the bed, weight dipping it down. He slowly made his way towards Darcy, savoring the feel of his hands running up her thighs, onto her stomach and cupping her breasts. As he focused on her breasts, taking their weight in his hands and playing with her already perked nipples, Darcy wrapped her legs around his hips. They ended up laying side by side, Clint still paying extra attention to her breasts and one of Darcy's legs draped over him.

Once he sufficiently explored the wonders of Darcy's chest, Clint started to lay short kisses along her neck and moved them so he was on top and settled comfortably between her legs. His muscles shifted under her hands and she took the time to appreciate that he was pretty much all muscle. Darcy could also feel his dick throbbing behind the thin piece of fabric but Clint made no move to discard his underwear, becoming occupied once more with kissing her. The kiss was surprisingly tender. He explored her mouth and tugged at her lips almost lovingly. But Darcy wanted more. So she kissed back with bites and groans.

Sensing her demands, Clint pulled back and took off his Jockeys. Darcy watched, mouth practically watering at the sight. He was a relatively average length but was a little thicker than what she'd had in the past. She wanted to reach out and touch him but she didn't want to break the moment. _This_ was what she had been aching for. Going solo could only do so much. There was nothing that could compare to the feel of someone filling her arms and body.

Clint ripped open the condom pack and rolled it on. They stayed silent as he climbed back over her and slowly slid in. Both uttered moans of guttural pleasure as he entered, inch by inch, filling Darcy until he was to the hilt. Her folds stretched out to take him as Clint moved in and out experimentally. Before she could move in time with him, Clint sat up and pulled her up so that she was on top.

"Whoa!"

"What can I say, I like to watch your tits move," Clint said, leaning back on his arms.

"Seriously?" asked Darcy, not sure if she was disappointed in herself that it sort of turned her on even more. Instead of waiting for his answer, she started to move. She went slow at first before picking up a pace that had her clit rubbing against his pelvic bone. Her skin prickled and she could feel her breasts wobbling. It was a pace that Clint enjoyed if his vocalization was anything to go by. He looked up at her, restraining himself but watching her body move with dark, dilated eyes. Then he moved his hands from where they lay guiding her hips to her sides and he tickled her.

"Ah! What are you doing?" laughed Darcy, losing rhythm in trying to dodge his fingers. Clint just laughed. As revenge, Darcy started up a speed what was even faster, tweaking her nipples and clenching around him every so often. It had Clint cursing out moans and dropping his hands back to her hips to grip tightly at them. It also had Darcy coming for the third time, arching her back and screaming out. She fluttered around Clint's dick, falling forward and melding to his body as her body tightened and relaxed.

"That's three. And the different locations were a bonus," Clint said softly into her ear, moving them so he was on top again. Then, Clint started to pound into Darcy at a hasty pace until he was coming with a grunt. He dropped his forehead onto her shoulder, letting more of his weight press down on her while he caught his breath. When he was starting to feel too heavy, he rolled off of her and took off the condom.

"God, I needed that," Darcy admitted. Satisfaction was already sinking into her bones as her heartbeat started to even out. The cool air of her bedroom was now welcome, comforting against her hot skin. She was sore in all the right places and a few new ones. She appreciated the discovery.

"Glad to be of service," Clint sighed, stretching out and crossing his arms under his head. They fell into silence, letting their bodies sink into the afterglow. They didn't make any attempt to cuddle and Darcy was surprised to find she didn't mind. After what felt like five minutes, she spoke up.

"So am I allowed to name your penis now?" wondered Darcy, turning her head to see Clint chuckle at the question.

"Not sure you've got up close enough for that."

"Then we'll have to change that," Darcy turned onto her side and looked down at his flaccid penis. She scooted over and straddled Clint's thighs, earning a raised brow.

"So I'm thinking Legolas, as far as names go," Darcy announced, moving down. Her hands slowly slid across his chest and abs.

"Let's workshop that- _fuck_!"

Darcy took the tip of his cock in her mouth and sucked lightly without warning, tasting some of his cum. She added a hand and slowly rubbed up and down on the base of his cock where her mouth wasn't busy.

"Shit Darcy," Clint moaned, arching lightly off the bed. "You can call my dick Katniss for all I care. Just keep doing that."

"Be careful," Darcy warned, removing her mouth to smirk at him. She could feel his dick getting hard again in her hand. "The temptation to call your balls Peta and Gale is too great."

"Ha! I actually like that. Can I name your tits? Jesus-" Clint jumped again when she took him into her mouth again, as much as she could take. Deciding she could make a joke about the father, the mother and the holy ghost later, Darcy kept sucking. The night was just beginning and she wanted to see all the ways she could make Hawkeye squirm.

"This is the beginning of a beautiful friendship," sighed Clint and Darcy had to agree.

* * *

End Note: Song lyrics from _I Always Knew_ by The Vaccines.


End file.
